


A Lily On His Grave

by keikasate



Series: An Electric Soul, a Heart On Fire [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Cyrris Lavellan, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers for Here Lies the Abyss, feyn is very sad and desperate, sorta but?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keikasate/pseuds/keikasate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feynhel lost his best friend at Adamant /after/ they made it out of the fade. Maybe he's just in denial, but he's willing to do anything to bring him back. Are the others willing to do the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feyn has no sense of self preservation especially when it comes to Saf, Dorian or Cyrris, which maybe isn't a good thing.  
> My Cadash is also pretty much my asshole inquisitor so I figured she'd be the one to do something like this.  
> This one is also another one I wrote a while back so bear with me, also Ash helped write Cullen bc I'm bad at writing him and they have my eternal thanks.

  They made it through. The fade was more terrifying than he had ever thought and he was so,so glad they all made it out alive. Walking back to camp they were too relaxed, but everyone was caught up in the excitement of victory, so he couldn't blame them. Without turning around, Feyn laughed.

  
  “Saf, when we get back to Skyhold why don't we cook up something and make sure my brother thinks we weren't totally terrified?”

  
Saf snickered in response and clapped Feyn on the back.

  
  “You're delusional, nothing gets past that kid. We might as well not even try to-”

  A sharp whistle, a thud. Feyn turned, confused and then terrified. It was a sensation like being in the fade, but much,much worse. In fact, comparing his feelings now to what he felt, what they all felt in the fade, would be a _gross_ understatement.

  
 Saf, on the ground, blood bubbling out from his mouth and an arrow through his neck. Feyn dropped quickly next to Saf, shouting at first and then his words melted into a jumbled mess of profanities as he fumbled for his dagger, cutting the arrow so he could pull it out. His hands shook and Saf's eyes were wide, his fist gripping Feyn's braid.

  
 Feyn held him close and upright, trying to use healing magic to close the wound. He should have used his staff but that wasn't important right now. He didn't care how, he needed to keep his best friend alive.  
  There was shouting, the sound of arrows hitting the ground and the Inquisitor and her other companions charging. He didn't care, his world composed of only Saf,himself, and the healing magic pouring out of his hand.

  He couldn't see straight, something was blurring his vision. Tears? Why? Saf was going to live, Feyn could fix this, he had to.

  But Saf was already dead. He'd choked on his own blood, blood that now covered Feyn's hands. He couldn't accept another part of his small world disappearing. He couldn't do anything useful, just like the first time.

  
    _Failure_.

  
 He couldn't stop the tears anymore and he screwed his eyes shut in a pitiful attempt to do so. Clutching Saf's body as close to him as possible was the only thing he could do,still uselessly trying to heal him like it would change anything.

  
 “Splinters, is he..?” The only answer to Varric’s question was crying and uneven breathing from Feyn. Inquisitor Cadash made her way over to them, stopping in front of him, her emotions well hidden.

  “He's dead. Come on, we have to keep moving until we get back to camp.” Feyn rubbed his face on his sleeve and stood up, still holding his friend.

  “I..we can't just leave him here, we need to take him back to Skyhold.”

  
“Look, people die all the time, it's a miracle Stroud was the only casualty while we were in the fade. We can't carry a dead body all the way back to Skyhold.” Kiran squinted at him, pinching the bridge of her nose. Feyn started to open his mouth, but thankfully Varric interjected.

  
 “Your Inquisitorialness, the kid at least deserves to be buried near Skyhold.” She grunted at Varric before waving him off.

  
 “Fine. But I'm not going to be the one to carry him.” Varric sighed and turned back to Feyn after Kiran walked off.  
 “C’mon, I'll help you cover him up when we get back to camp.”

 

****

  Feyn didn't need to hide his feelings, but that didn't stop him from doing it anyway. After getting back to and leaving camp he didn't speak much, except to Varric. Varric tried to make him feel a little better, told him stories to take his mind off of things. Though to be honest, it was hard not to think about Saf when he was the one carrying his body, and when so many things reminded him of his friend.

  
  The trip back to Skyhold seemed to take forever, Saf couldn't berate him about his fashion sense, or initiate an impromptu staff joust, or any of the fun things they did together. It was lonely, even though Saf was right there in his arms and only covered up by a blanket, he wasn't _there_.

  
  “Varric, I'm going to bring up the rear but..”

  “Yeah?”

  “If Cyrris is waiting for me at the gate can you tell him to wait in our room? Or just somewhere that's not...I don't want him to…”

 “Yeah Splinters, I understand.” The dwarf gave him a sympathetic look and Feyn fell to the back of the party as they approached the fortress. He could see Varric already talking to Cyrris, who looked disappointed but walked away, followed by the dwarf. Dorian stood at the gate, the only one left, and Feyn dismounted with some difficulty.

  “Amatus, I'm glad to see you're safe. I..heard the news..i'm so sorry” He paused, noticing what Feyn carried. Feyn looked at the ground and pressed his palm to his eyes to keep himself from crying. His words came out strained and wavery.

  “Saf...he..it took us by surprise.”

  “I watched him, in my arms and I..I couldn't do anything. Creators, it was just like the clan but somehow worse and I-” Feyn's words became increasingly jumbled and incoherent as he started crying again. Dorain exhaled and softly grabbed Feyn's wrist, moving his hand from his eyes and intertwining their fingers.

  “Amatus...nobody blames you for those things.”

  “ _They should!_ There ought to be someone to blame, and if I'd known a little more healing magic maybe I could've..” He looked at his hand, clenching it in frustration before leaning onto Dorian in defeat.

  “You couldn't have known that it would happen. Come now, why don't we place his body in his room for the moment, until we can arrange something else.”

 

  
  Shortly after placing Saf's body in his room, and covering him, Feyn took it upon himself to tell the others what happened. He made sure to tell Cyrris first, and then everyone else. Most of them already knew though, apparently Inquisitor Kiran had sent a report back ahead of time and word had spread.

  Though, Feyn was understandably nervous about discussing this with Cullen. What would he say? ‘Hey commander nice weather we're having, oh by the way I watched your boyfriend/my best friend die in my arms and I'm a little dead inside how about you?’

  That would definitely go over well.

 Luckily (or possibly not) he saw Cullen when he was looking for Cole and Cyrris the next morning. They made eye contact, and after a sigh, Cullen waved him over. He was extremely disheveled, hair in a half slicked mess, and he looked more fatigued than usual.

  “Commander..how are you holding up?”

  “I think I should be asking you the same question, Feynhel.”

  “True, but I asked first.” Cullen raised his hands in defeat with a heavy sigh.

  “Maker... I-I suppose I haven’t thought of it. Not truly. Not completely sure I want to. I’ve been going out on more assignments, training the troops more. I-” His voice grew raw as he paused and steadied his breathing. “It feels different without him.” He paused again, this time longer as if contemplating before speaking.

 “I suppose you understand better than the others- you were closer to him than even I was.” Cullens lips curled weakly in a sad attempt at a smile.

  The two of them talked for a short while, carefully treading around an invisible minefield. Towards the end of their conversation, Cyrris showed up and attempted to steal Feyn away. He offered a weak and tired smile, and got one in return.

 “Cullen, please try to relax a little, I'm here when you need to talk.”

     "Of course."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I love angst wow this isn't new. I'll be posting another work that has a...different outcome.

  It was a week and a half after Saf's death that Feyn had asked Dorian for his help, at which his lover agreed, though hesitantly. The only thing that remained was to ask the Inquisitor to splurge a little for their sake.

  “Excuse me?”

  “We can bring Saf back, we just need your help.”

  “He's here in Skyhold, like you asked. I don't know why you haven't buried the poor man yet. Solas says you're even wasting your magic just to keep his body from decaying.” Kiran rested her chin on her palm as she sat at her desk, clearly unamused. Dorian decided to step in.

  “He’s referring to Necromancy, Inquisitor. It is a skill which I happen to have at my disposal.”

  “Alright, so what? Listen, if you wanna bring the kid back as a corpse who am I to stop you? I'm just not sure why you gotta ask me.”

  “Because if I plan to bring him back to life, I need more supplies, the kind that a fellow simply can't purchase in a market with pocket change.”

 “You want me to spend Inquisition funds to help you bring back one person because you can't get over his death is that it?”

 “Well, put simply, yes.”

  “Absolutely not.”

   Feyn furrowed his brow, time for a different approach.

  “If for no other reason, help us bring him back because of his skills. He's a powerful mage, and he's efficient. He's certainly more useful in fights than I am.” Dorian shot him a glance that seemed just a bit disappointed in the way he phrased it, but perhaps it'd appeal to the Inquisitor more.

    Apparently it only made her more annoyed.

  “Do you think I haven't had to deal with the loss of great soldiers before, losing friends before? Safrian was a good mage. I know he meant a lot to the both of you, Cullen as well, but we simply can't afford to bring every ally back.” She sighed and put down her pen.

  “Look, I have paperwork to look over and a war table meeting later. For now, I'm done with this matter.” Dorian gripped Feyn's shoulder and they walked out together, Feyn's expression caught between anger, fatigue, and helplessness. They'd wait a few days and then bring it up again.

 ****

  
  Feyn tried not to let it show how much it was affecting him, for Cyrris’s sake at least. He found that it was easier to deal with when he was in the company of his lover and a few choice bottles of wine, though Dorian was trying to keep him away from the latter. Something about forming bad habits,something he knew about from experience.

  He had a stiff conversation with Solas where the older elf scolded him for expending his magic on Saf's body. It ended with a string of angry elvish and some extremely rude gestures from Feyn.

  Feyn was alone when he spotted the Inquisitor next, she was out making quick work of the practice dummies. He approached carefully, out of the radius of her blade.

 “Inquisitor ar-” He was cut off by her sticking her sword into the ground with a loud thud.

 “I know what you're going to ask and my answer is still no. But, if you're gonna keep asking me about it, I'll at least talk to the others and get their opinions.”

 “..Thank you.”

** 

  Apparently the others opinions weren't in his favor. Cadash called Feyn and Dorian into an office a few days afterwards.

 “I've asked for everyone's opinions on this, to...put any doubts aside.” She stood by the window, strong and resolute, though when Feyn looked close enough, he saw a hint of empathy. She knew what this felt like, but her responsibilities made it clear she couldn't be careless.

 “What did they say?”

 “To be blunt, it was a majority no. Though I have to say, there were a few who were very adamantly one way or the other. Everyone's reasoning for deciding against it were along the lines of wasting money and resources. It's experimental magic, Feynhel.”

 “I...I see. Then…?”

 “If you can find a way to do it using your own connections, and not the Inquisition's, no one will stop you. But we'll not help you. That's all I'll say on the matter, you're dismissed.” She sighed and moved back to her seat and Feyn nodded. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists, and he bit his lip so hard it seemed ready to draw blood.

 He managed to barely hold it together long enough to make it into his room. Dorian had to quite literally pick him up off of the floor, and he was quite sure he’d need to wash his outfit with all the snot he managed to get on it.

 “I'm sorry, amatus, there's nothing else we can do.”

 “I could have..I- I need time alone.”

 “Are you..sure?"

     "Yes."

 Dorian left him to his own devices and arranged for Cyrris to sleep somewhere else that night.


End file.
